The Night of the Fever Ridden Cowboy
by mithras90
Summary: Have re-uploaded this story with a few more details about James West's lost love. But the basic story is that West becomes ill with a fever and collapses outside the ranch of a woman who knew him from 15 years before and thought him dead.


The Night of the Fever-Ridden Cowboy

James West sighed as he strolled into the varnish car of The Wanderer. It had been one of the harder missions, a ten day hike through the swamps and bayous of Louisiana. Artemus had been sent up north on a mission to Washington so Jim was on his own. He didn't mind that so much, he'd done solo missions before and he was expecting Jeremy Pike in a day or so, it was that every bug and insect had taken a liking to his flesh and he was covered in bites. Stripping down to his trousers he filled his bath and then removing them also he clambered in and lay back in the warm, fragrant water.

Washing himself thoroughly he'd changed into clean clothes and was sampling a glass of port when the telegraph started to chatter again. Scowling he picked up a piece of paper and scribbled down the message. He was just re-reading it when there was a knock on the door and he called, "Come in."

The door opened and Jeremy Pike poked his smiling face around it, "Evening, Jim. Good to see you!"

"And you, Jeremy." West replied, he stretched and then closing his eyes massaged the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, "You all right, Jim?" Jeremy asked, concerned.

"Just a bit of a headache," James replied, "Tough mission."

"And I suspect what you're holding in your hand is another one." Jeremy replied with a wry smile.

"I've just got to go pick up a ruffian and deliver him to the local sheriff." Jim replied. "Shouldn't take longer than 5 days – and meanwhile you get to stay here and keep the train warm for me. I'll meet you in Topeka in ten days time."

"You sure you'll be all right, Jim?" Jeremy frowned, "you don't look so good."

"I'll be fine." West smiled, "I'll take the bay gelding, Blackjack could do with the rest. Think you can stay out of trouble while I'm away?"

Jeremy grinned, "Oh I think so, James."

The headache persisted and along with it came some aches and pains that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He sighed softly to himself as he rode towards the small town of Trask. He was going to have a nice long rest after this. Stopping at the town he went straight to the Sheriff's office to find out where his prey was likely to be. To his surprise Cy Carson was sitting in the office, "Jim! What are you doing here in this Godforsaken part of the country?"

"Came to pick up Juan Rivera, heard he was in this area?"

"Well you could say that," Cy grinned, "follow me." He led Jim through to the jail, and sitting disconsolately in one of the cells at the back was the man Jim had come ten miles to deliver to the Sheriff's office.

To Cy's surprise, Jim laughed, "Well obviously the telegrams got crossed. Oh well, I can ride to Topeka and pick up The Wanderer there. I could do with a nice leisurely ride across the country."

"Are you sure that there isn't another motive," Cy asked anxiously, "There are any number of men who would gladly see you dead, Jim."

West brushed Cy's concerns away, "It was just a simple mistake, Cy. But it means that I don't have to worry about capturing some bandit and just enjoy myself."

Twenty minutes later, West rode out of Trask. Despite his aches and pains he'd enjoyed a leisurely meal of chicken and dumplings washed down with lashings of hot coffee. Then he'd stopped by the doctor's to pick up some headache powders, carefully storing them in his saddlebags where they wouldn't get damp and then he'd mounted the bay and casually ridden out of Trask.

Despite taking one of the headache powders later Jim's headache persisted. The aches and pains he'd been experiencing attacked him with full force. He stopped and made a fire that evening. He was going to cook but a wave of nausea almost overwhelmed him when he thought of food. He made himself some coffee and wrapping himself in a blanket, lay down to sleep. No doubt he'd feel better in the morning.

The following morning if anything West felt worse. The chills which had assailed him during the night and made his teeth chatter, had returned in full force. Slowly, aching in every limb he mounted the bay and began to ride towards Topeka. As he rode out onto the prairie, a thought struck him. This illness could be deadly, he looked around, his climbing fever making the landscape bend and twist, he could see the outlines of buildings on the horizon. If he could get to one of the ranches then with his last breath he could warn them. Holding onto his saddle with the last of his strength he urged his horse onward to the first of the houses.

WWWW

Jeremy was cleaning his weapons when the telegraph started to chatter. Sighing he laid his gun aside and walked across to the machine. Scribbling down the message he smiled, it was from Artemus and it read BUSINESS CONCLUDED IN WASHINGTON STOP INTEND TO MEET YOU IN TOPEKA STOP DON'T DELAY STOP ARTEMUS. Jeremy smiled, Artemus sounded like he'd finished his stint of duty in the nation's capital and was looking forward to returning to his train. Jeremy smiled, a part of him envied James and Artemus this train and their friendship but the other part was quite grateful that he was returning to his office. These men were selected to undertake some of the most dangerous assignments for President Grant and if Jeremy was honest with himself he didn't envy either man this haven of luxury. Smiling he settled back in his seat.

WWWW

She'd been working outside, feeding the chickens when she saw the bay. It came trotting straight up to the fence and she wondered who was visiting. Then she saw the man slumped over the horse's neck. As it halted at the fence he slid onto the dusty ground. Grasping her skirt in her hands she ran towards him, he was still conscious and as she bent over him he whispered, "Don't touch me….contagious…stay away…" and then the green eyes slid shut.

She stared at him in shock, _It couldn't be him, he'd died over ten years ago in Vicksburg, it couldn't be!_ Common sense took over and she yelled, "Matthew!"

When her brother limped across to her he knelt beside the man's body, "Who is he?" he asked.

"I think he was a man I treated over ten years ago," she responded, "But I was sure he'd died of his injuries. He said he was contagious. Should we treat him?"

For an answer Matthew sighed and shook his head, "Well we can't leave him out here. Give me a hand. We'll take him through to the back room just off the surgery."

Matthew laid him on the bed and looked at his sister, "Elizabeth, I'll leave him in your capable hands, but you must be careful. Wash your hands every time you enter or leave the room – do you understand?"

Elizabeth nodded, "Yes, Matthew. Can I ask you to get the tin bath for me? And to draw some water from the cool well. We need to get that fever down."

Matthew nodded, "All right. We'll wrap him in a sheet so he doesn't thrash and hurt himself when we lower him into the tub."

As they laid him back in the bed, Matthew gently touched the man's forehead, "He seems a little cooler. What are you going to do?"

"I'll grind up some Jesuit's Bark and then administer it to him," Elizabeth replied, "If nothing else it should ease his fever."

Matthew washed his hands and then drying them on the towel nodded, "Do as you see fit, Elizabeth. I place all my trust in you."

"Will you cook tonight?" she asked softly.

"Of course my dear," Matthew smiled, "Your cooking while adequate, often leaves much to be desired."

"Idiot," she laughed, leaning forward and kissing his cheek.

She took one of the pieces of bark and breaking it in half ground the remainder in her pestle to a fine powder. Then she took a teaspoon and as carefully as possible scooped up a tiny amount of the powder on the end of it and added it to the glass. To this she added a teaspoon of honey and a small amount of water.

Slipping an arm beneath his shoulders she lifted him so that she could hold the glass to his lips. As she did so his eyes half opened and she almost dropped it, she never thought she'd see those eyes again. He looked puzzled and as she lifted his head to hold the glass to his lips he muttered, "Shouldn't be touching me….sickness…"

"Drink this," she ordered firmly, "You're in a Quarantine Ward. You're perfectly safe."

"Bitter," he muttered, "No more-"

"All of it," she ordered, "then you can have some water to wash the taste away." Slowly, drop by painstaking drop she eased the mixture down his throat. Then, as promised she held the water to his lips and watched as he drank thirstily. She watched his throat work as he swallowed and wondered what the hell she was doing. She remembered him so clearly. It had been almost eleven and half years ago when he'd stumbled into the hellhole they called a hospital, but she knew he hadn't really seen her, he'd been concussed and too injured to _see_ her. Then he'd just disappeared, she'd assumed that he'd died during the night and a part of her had grieved because he had seemed so special in her eyes. As the final two years of the war dragged on she put it down to her own sensibilities as a woman. Surely to someone all these young men were special.

He settled back onto the pillows and despite her own promises not to become involved she gently stroked the hair back from his forehead. The green eyes opened again and a soft smile curved his lips, "Shouldn't be doing that," he muttered, "get my sickness. Epidemic." His voice faded away and he was asleep. She smiled and then left him to rest remembering to wash her hands thoroughly at the sink.

Matthew was cooking at the stove when she walked into the kitchen, "What's your prognosis?" he asked.

"Well he took the Jesuit's Bark," she replied, "didn't much like the taste. Having said that I don't know many people that do. I don't have anything else to treat the fever and I don't know what it is."

"Can you make an educated guess as to what it isn't?" he asked.

"I think so," she smiled, "It's not Chicken Pox, or Scarlet Fever. I'm thinking Swamp Fever but that still leaves Typhus, Malaria and Typhoid, two of which could prove deadly."

She smiled at her brother, "And I haven't ruled out Yellow Fever either."

"Best guess?"

"Best guess! I don't have one. I've given him the Jesuit's Bark which will at least relieve the shivering somewhat. Other than that I have no solution."

"You are as skilled a physician as I have ever seen," her brother shuffled across the room to hug his sister, "and I have every faith in you."

"And if he dies do we bury him behind the chicken house?" she asked pointedly.

"He won't die." Matthew assured her, "That much I know."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," she laughed, "let me eat and then I'll go check on him."

Matthew took her plate and then he said, "I'll make a light chicken broth for our patient. I'd better sort through his clothes and see if he's got any identification."

He'd settled into a fitful slumber when she slipped back into the room. He hadn't started shivering yet which was a good sign but she took clean sheets and a blanket from the chest of drawers and set them on the second bed to be safe. He muttered and twitched in his sleep and laying a hand on his forehead she wasn't surprised to find that he was burning up. She took the basin of water and a flannel and gently drawing the sheet down to his waist she soaked the flannel and wringing it out she began to gently wipe his face and neck. He started talking quite clearly to someone in his sleep and she almost dropped the flannel on him in shock. Finally she pulled the sheet back up again and tipped the water down the sink. Checking the watch in her pocket she saw that it was time for another dose of quinine. Mixing it up she held his head and carefully eased it down his throat. He tried to twist his head away once or twice but she held it firmly until the medicine was gone. He moaned softly as she laid his head back on the pillow and she gently stroked the dark hair away from his forehead.

He ran a high fever that night. She lit the lamps and sat with him as he raved, mainly about someone called Artie. Only once did he scare her, she had been bending over him to check his pulse when suddenly a hand shot up and clamped itself around her throat, she'd looked down and seen a raging fury in those sea-green eyes. For the space of a heartbeat they'd stared at one another, afterwards she would vividly remember her hands on his arm and the warmth of his hand at her throat, afterwards she would think it was her lack of reaction that saved her life, truthfully, she could not have reacted any other way. Terror held her paralysed. For a brief moment she wondered how quickly it would take him to strangle her and then the green eyes cleared and the hand dropped, "Gods," he muttered, "thought – thought you were someone else. Sorry, sorry-" his lips were still forming the word as he dropped back into unconsciousness. But it was later when she was holding his hand that she did almost break down, she was sitting next to the bed, gently holding his hand because it seemed to soothe him when he began to speak. At first she thought he was speaking to her and then she realised that he was still delirious.

"I never got to tell you," he whispered, "I'm sorry. I should have told you that I loved you. Should have left the Service and married you."

Her heart breaking she swallowed hard and laying her other hand on his arm she replied, "I knew you loved me. It doesn't matter that you didn't tell me. I knew."

He shifted position and she thought he was asleep and then he said, "I nearly went mad when you died. Thought about going after Creane – alone. I miss you so much."

"I know, love." She could feel the tears running down her cheeks, but didn't move her hands to wipe them away. "But you need to rest and sleep. You've been ill."

"Will I see you again?" her heart lurched and she bit her lip.

"I think so, Dear Heart. Rest. Recover. We'll see each other again. Hush now."

He sighed softly and she watched as he settled into slumber. Carefully she laid his hand on the sheet and then walked across to the windows, opening them quietly she stepped out into the cool night air. _Who was the mysterious woman?_ She wondered, _Someone very special, what had happened? How had she died?_ Wiping her face with her handkerchief she turned back to the sick room. She was never going to find out, she looked again at the now slumbering man. Proud, courageous, thoughtful, she was going to have to add 'self-contained' to the list of qualities because whoever this woman had been, whoever had captured his heart must have been someone very special indeed.

Then her voice caught in her throat as she saw the transparent figure bending over him, for a moment she thought it was the Angel of Death and then it turned to her and smiled. She took a step towards it and it was suddenly in front of her and she could see a young, dark-haired woman with eyes of pale grey, "It was you," Elizabeth whispered slowly.

For a moment she thought she saw a spasm of pain cross the spectre's lips and then it nodded, _Yes. I am glad you were here tonight. He grieved so hard for me that I thought I would lose him._

"Why are you here?" Elizabeth whispered softly.

_I needed to see him once more._ There was a sad smile playing over the spectre's mouth, _After tonight it won't be possible._

"Why?"

_Because, because I'm moving on. Besides which it is time he moved on too. _It sighed again, if a ghost could be said to sigh, _Time that his heart be opened again. There is someone waiting for him._

"I doubt that he'll ever stop loving you." Elizabeth said quietly.

_No, he won't. Nor I him. _The spirit paused, _I cannot be jealous of the woman he will come to love and marry. If I was I could not leave this earthly plane – there is no place for envy in Heaven. He already has his soul in his partner for which I have thanked the Creator with all my Being, now he just needs Her to restore his heart._

Elizabeth swallowed and suddenly knew that it wasn't her. She looked across at the man lying on the bed and said quietly, "Go to him." And she watched with wet eyes as the ghost smiling, leant over the young man and his eyes opened, for a moment she felt like an intruder but he nodded and a slight smile curved the handsome mouth.

"Cecily," he whispered, "I miss you so."

_I know, Love,_ She raised a transparent hand to touch his forehead, _You must sleep, Dear One. Get well._

"I don't want to get well," Elizabeth watched as tears ran down his face, "I want to be with you."

_Oh, my Love,_ Cecily's figure wavered, _You must put away your guilt, it was not your fault._

"Should have known Creane wouldn't keep his word. Shouldn't have put you in danger. Caused your death-" his voice broke and Elizabeth felt her heart clench.

_No, my Darling_ the spirit's form wavered, _You did not. Believe me, Dear One."_

Something cleared in his face and a shaky smile curved the full mouth, "Will I see you again?"

_Oh yes, _Cecily smiled, _Be happy, my Darling._

Elizabeth watched as Jim's eyes closed and he dropped back into slumber. She took a step forward and then the spirit was in front of her, _You will look after him._

"Yes," Elizabeth replied, "With all my heart." The spirit smiled and then wavered again and Elizabeth swallowed, "Your time is growing short."

_Yes,_ Cecily nodded, _Be well, Elizabeth_. And then she was alone.

His fever broke as the sun rose the following morning and she could see that although he was still ill, he was out of danger. She was tipping the remainder of the powdered Jesuit's Bark into a jar to preserve its medicinal qualities when Matthew knocked on the door and entered the room. He washed and dried his hands and setting the items down on the second bed sat down beside her. "He's a Secret Service Agent. Name of James West."

She turned and he thought he saw a look of shock in her eyes, "I can't believe it, I was sure that he died."

"Unless there were two of them," Matthew remarked.

"Not with those eyes," She managed a taut smile, "Guess I'd better go into town. Do you want anything extra?"

"The usual lemon drops if Smythe has any in. You'll send a message to Washington. Then they can't accuse us of withholding information."

"I will." She smiled somewhat sadly at her brother, "If I know Captain West, there will be people who care about him, who need to know he's safe. We should let them know that he's all right and being taken care of. If they want to move him that's their choice."

"Want some breakfast?" Matthew asked.

"I'll just check our patient and then be through." She smiled, "Go on, Matt."

WWWW

_He was back in the bayou up to his chest in water. Water? He shook his head to clear it, he hated swamps, but somehow this didn't fit. He was still searching for this criminal but he seemed to have been stuck in this lake forever, always walking and the water seemed to be getting deeper. He took another step forward and the water level had risen to his chin. Where was the land? The water was rising, rising, smothering him-_

And he awoke to find himself and the sheets dripping with sweat. Dazedly he looked around, where was he? This didn't look like any hospital he knew and yet it had the appearance of a sick room. The door opened and he looked up puzzled into a pair of familiar blue eyes. "Where?" he croaked.

"Be with you in two shakes," she said quickly. He watched as she washed her hands and then drying them on a towel she walked across to him, "I think we'll move you into the next bed while I change this one. You're soaked through!"

He smiled ruefully as she proceeded to put a blanket on the second bed and then as he pulled the sheets back he realised that he was naked. She looked him up and down and then smiled, "I have seen you in your birthday suit, but I understand your embarrassment. Here," she turned back to the chest of drawers, "This may help." She handed him a nightshirt and turned her back on him so that he could put it on.

He pulled the nightshirt over his head and swung his legs over the side. To his shock and horror he was as weak as a kitten! She turned back to him and said gently, "Let me help." Embarrassed but not really having much choice he allowed her to help him to the next bed. She settled him under the covers and then mixed him another glass of medicine. "I doubt you'll like the taste any more than you did two days ago but it will help reduce the fever."

"Two days!" he gaped at her.

"'Fraid so." She grinned, "do you know your name?"

"James West," he replied. "I work for the Government."

"We know," another voice said. West looked up as another man entered the room and after washing and drying his hands shook hands with West. "I'm Matthew MacKenzie, this is my sister, Elizabeth. We still don't know how infectious you are," he said as West regarded him curiously, "best to take precautions."

"I think if his temperature remains normal for the remainder of the day, he's no longer infectious although most infectious diseases are only infectious for a short space of time." Elizabeth smiled.

"Any idea what it could have been?" Matthew asked.

"Not Typhoid or Typhus fever. That has some rather nasty symptoms, none of which you displayed," she smiled at West, "Not Chicken Pox or Measles or Mumps. Or Yellow Fever, or Scarlet Fever. So I think it might have been Malaria. Tell me have you been trudging though swamps recently?"

"Had to trawl through the delightful swamps of Louisiana," he smiled tautly, "and every insect and bug decided to dine on my flesh."

Elizabeth frowned, "Hmmm. Interesting. Still-" she looked up at West and her face cleared, "Now we know who you are – and more importantly – you know who you are – who do we tell to let them know you're safe?"

A smile curved the strong mouth and lit up those dazzling green eyes, "If you're going into town I'll give you the details of who to contact."

WWWWW

"It's been three days!" Gordon stomped across the varnish car of the Wanderer. "I know Jim – something's wrong!"

Richmond held up his hand, "You don't know that Mr Gordon. West might have just been delayed."

The look Artemus Gordon turned on his superior would have flayed a less experienced man, "James West is the soul of punctuality. If he knew that he had to be in a certain place in a certain time he would be there. No delays. I've checked with Cy Carson. When Jim arrived at Trask it was to find that Juan Rivera was already in custody. At first I smelt something fishy but then I discovered that it was just a simple matter of communications becoming crossed. Since the Wanderer was coming to Topeka anyway Jim decided that he would here to meet it. Something must have happened to him on the way."

Richmond sighed, "And what do you propose we do about it?"

At that moment the telegraph began chattering. Pulling a piece of paper towards him Artemus picked up his pencil and held it over the paper. Listening intently he began to scribble down the message.

He looked up at Colonel Richmond his face alight with relief, "Jim's been found. He became ill while riding to Topeka. A brother and sister are taking care of him. I'm going to go and meet them this afternoon."

WWWWW

Elizabeth smiled as she looked at her patient, "You must be feeling better, Mr West."

"Jim, please." He smiled as he handed her the empty bowl, "Your brother's cooking is hard to resist Miss MacKenzie."

"Elizabeth," she smiled, "It's a pleasure, Jim."

"Thank you for sending that message," Jim eased down under the bedclothes, "My guess is that Mr Gordon will be along soon to see how I'm doing."

"Then I'd better tell Matthew that there will be four for lunch." Elizabeth replied as she quietly left the room.

When she'd gone, Jim snuggled under the blankets and closed his eyes, his memories of the past 2½ days were still fuzzy, he vaguely remembered a dream about Loveless bending over him and he'd reached up and grabbed the man's neck. Then to his horror his vision had cleared and he had been staring up into Elizabeth's face. A soft sigh emerged from between his teeth, _He'd been that close!_ What surprised him was her reaction, or lack of it, he thought wryly as he drifted into sleep.

He was woken by the sound of voices, a male and female, as he drifted into consciousness he could hear the female explaining.

"I think that Mr West was suffering a bout of malaria," she was saying, "He said that every insect in the bayou took a bite out of him. I think Malaria could be insect borne. God knows which insect though – he'd been bitten by all of them I think."

"So the vector for the disease could be something as small as an insect?"

"Could well be," he heard the soft laugh, "Mr Gordon, do you not recall what it says in the Hadith, '_The Prophet forbade drinking from a cracked cup_'. You have a scientific mind, you look for the miniscule with your microscope don't you?"

"But an insect causing the disease?"

"Maybe the insect's the vector and the disease is caused by an organism that it carried."

_Artemus!_ He jerked upright as he realised it was his friend and then sank back onto the pillows with a groan. Both of them turned and then Artemus was walking across to the bed to grip his shoulder and say, "James-my-boy have you any idea of the fracas you've caused?"

He smiled up at his friend, "Artie, it's good to see you. How was Washington?"

Gordon smiled, "Ah you know, Jim. A little of this, a little of that. Mostly paperwork but I got some research time in too."

"I heard," Jim smiled. Then Elizabeth was at his elbow helping him to sit up, "I'll bring your lunch in here Mr Gordon. And you-" she turned to West, "if you're good and you rest today you can get up tomorrow."

West nodded slowly, "All right, Miss MacKenzie."

"See that he behaves," she ordered Artemus and was rewarded with a smile.

"A highly skilled young lady," Artemus remarked, his eyes watching the slight figure, "I wonder where she learnt her talent."

"No idea," West smiled, "but I have cause to be grateful to her."

The door opened and Matthew entered carrying a tray. "Gentlemen, your lunch. Mr Gordon I hope you enjoy ham and eggs and I've prepared something easily digestible for Mr West."

Gingerly Jim took a mouthful of his meal and was surprised to find that it was quite tasty. "You have a skill Mr MacKenzie."

"Shame my father never thought so," Matthew smiled wryly, "but then he never thought much of Elizabeth's either. He forbade her to work in the Siege Hospital in Vicksburg but she would never have obeyed him on that score anyway."

When they were alone West turned to his friend, "That's where I know her from! She was a nurse at the Siege Hospital. I seriously believe that if she hadn't treated my arm I wouldn't be here today."

"What did she do that was so special, Jim?" Artemus looked up.

"Day after my 21st birthday. I'd been making my way down one of the trenches and Major General Grant was coming the other way, he'd been making a nightly inspection of the troops when a Parrott shell exploded just above him. I pushed him aside down into the mud of the trench, and the shell exploded. Two pieces of shrapnel caught me, one in my left arm and the other caught my head. I think I must have had concussion because I don't remember the next few hours very clearly." Jim paused and the green eyes became thoughtful, he frowned, thinking back to that night, "I remember she took one look at my arm and then she got one of the orderlies to sit me down. She washed her hands, cleaned the blood away with clean cloths and then she squirted something into the wound itself. At which point I blacked out." He paused, "I was woken by one of the nurses shaking me awake. Apparently, Major General Grant had come to the hospital and had arranged for me to be transported to one of the houses in the city. I spent two weeks under the care of a delightful young woman named Charlotte." He showed Artemus the scar two inches below the elbow crease on his left arm, a wry smile touched his lips, "I seriously believe that I would have lost the arm if it hadn't been for her skill. What the hell is she doing out here?"

"I don't know, Jim," Artie said quietly

Jim looked up, "So what do you plan to do, Artie?"

"Don't know that either," Artemus grinned wryly, "but I'll think of something. You on the other hand will rest and get well."

She was working in the small surgery next to the sick room when Artemus entered. "Miss MacKenzie?" he asked softly.

She turned and saw the look in his eyes, "One moment, Mr Gordon."

She gestured to a chair and when he was seated sat down herself, "How can I help you?"

"I'm just curious," Artemus admitted, "You were a nurse at the Siege Hospital, how come you ended up here? With your skill I'd have thought you'd have been a doctor by now."

"Not when your father's been imprisoned for War Crimes," she smiled wryly, "The Siege Hospital used to be our home. First it was commandeered by the Confederate Forces and as they were pushed back the Union Army took over. Father fled into the heart of the city leaving my brother and I to fend for ourselves," A wry grin twisted the mouth, "I was lucky. Since my attitude had always been to treat wounded soldiers whatever their loyalty I was allowed to stay and work there." She sighed, "when the siege was lifted Father was captured and having sided with the Union, transported to Andersonville Prison Camp. We never saw him again." She looked up at Artemus, "I testified at Wirz's trial along with a colleague of mine, Miss Barton. But I'm not sure that hanging Wirz actually changed very much."

"What about the house? Why didn't you stay in Vicksburg?" Artemus asked.

"When all three of us supported the Union?" Elizabeth's raised eyebrow made him smile, "Not a chance. I thought about studying medicine after the war, at the clinic Dr Blackwell founded for women but my family refused to help either Matthew or I."

"I'm surprised Matthew didn't get the house," Gordon remarked.

"Mr Gordon, we were pretty much _persona non grata_ in Vicksburg when the war was over. Ach," she shrugged, "there wasn't much left of the house once the shelling was finished. Lyle could keep the place. We did at least get some compensation from him," she laughed, "and I refused to sign the papers unless he paid us my asking price." She grinned, "In Union currency."

"So why come here?"

"No-one knew us. No-one knew about our Father, who right or wrong did not deserve to die the way he did, we could start again."

"And your skill?"

"I assist the doctor in town three days a week." She smiled, "Not quite what I envisaged but I get to use my mind. The money's also useful."

"I believe I owe a debt of gratitude to you for my friend's life."

"It was only malaria," she shrugged, "he would have recovered given time."

"That wasn't what I was referring to," he said quietly, "I believe you saved his life in Vicksburg."

Her face cleared and she shook her head, "I was so upset when I returned the following morning and he had gone. I assumed that he'd died during the night. The head wound was nasty."

"What did you do?"

"I cleaned the wound and then squirted warm water into it to clean it out," She bit her lip thoughtfully, "at this point he fainted. Then I carefully probed the wound for pieces of shrapnel, some of which I removed, set the bone, splinted it and then stitched the injury. Then I cleaned and dressed the head wound." She paused, "Got one of the orderlies to put him to bed with instructions to wake him up every hour."

"Well it's definitely the James West you treated," Gordon replied, "I've seen the scar and like him I believe if you hadn't cleaned and splinted his arm, he'd have lost it." He smiled, "I just wanted to quiz you on your technique."

She looked bemused, "I read some of the surgeon's books, Mr Gordon. I even had one open to refer to when I was treating his arm."

She got to her feet and he rose with her. "Then this is a thank you from me," he said quietly and hugged her. "I cannot begin to tell you how grateful I am."

She smiled back, "Mr Gordon, this is a relief. I have spent years wondering what I did wrong, and why Captain West died. Now I discover that he didn't is a far better present than anything you could give me."

Artemus looked sympathetic, "I don't suppose you could discuss it with anyone either?"

Elizabeth shook her head, "No. I was a nurse, I wasn't a doctor. Had I told anyone what I'd done, I'd have been dismissed. Nurses aren't allowed to clean and stitch injuries." She reached up to push her hair back and discovered that her face was wet. Gently Artemus handed her his handkerchief and waited quietly while she wiped her eyes and then gently drew her towards him. She returned the hug fiercely and he stroked her hair and whispered quietly.

Eventually he released her and stepped back, she wiped her face again and was about to hand the handkerchief back but he shook his head. Smiling he asked, "Do you need anything from town? I quite fancy a ride into that establishment."

Elizabeth shook her head, "I got all our supplies yesterday."

"Well I need to get to the telegraph office," Artemus said, "I promised that I'd let Colonel Richmond know when I found Mr West. You can look after him for a couple of hours?"

"I promise to sit on him if he attempts to get up," Elizabeth promised, laughter in her blue eyes.

Jim was thumbing through Elizabeth's copy of _A Pair of Blue Eyes_ when they walked back into the sickroom. She flushed and then stuttered, "Surely you'd prefer to read the paper, Mr West."

"Oh I don't know." Jim looked up, "I might enjoy reading this."

Artemus grinned, "Don't tease her, Jim. Miss MacKenzie I'll see you in an hour or so."

When they were alone Jim set the book aside and stretched, "Truthfully I wasn't planning on reading. Do you play chess Elizabeth?"

Artemus spent forty minutes in the telegraph office sending messages. When he came out, the first thing he did was to head across to the town's emporium for the most expensive box of chocolates he could afford. Then, mounting Mesa and armed with his packages he set off for home.

Elizabeth flushed with pleasure when Artemus presented her with the chocolates, but insisted on handing them round so that everyone could try them. She'd dug out some clothes and Jim was sitting on the porch watching the bay. Artemus came out to him carrying two glasses of lemonade. He handed one to his friend and sat down next to him, "How are you feeling?" he asked softly, looking hard at his friend.

Jim smiled wryly, "Better, Artie. Thank God she and her brother were here. I don't think anyone else would have known what to do." He paused, "I don't know how I'm going to thank them for this."

"I have a couple of aces up my sleeve," Artemus said slowly, sipping his drink. "She was telling me about her father. He was arrested and sent to Andersonville Prison Camp."

Jim swallowed, "That was a black mark against the Confederacy."

"Yes, although I think it was the fact that the family sided with the Union that led to them having to come out here. The rest of their community pretty much ostracised them. They are too talented to be stuck out here – she should be a doctor, my God Jim, she probably saved your arm, and her brother! That man could be a top class chef!"

"Mr Gordon. Mr West." Both men looked up to see Matthew standing next to them. West made to stand up but Matthew waved him down, "Please, Gentlemen, while I'm flattered that you praise my culinary expertise, you are right about my sister. She's too intelligent to spend the rest of her life here. She would stay for me but she needs more than this place can give her – and I think you know that Mr Gordon."

Artemus nodded, "I made some arrangements when I was in town, I expect to hear in the next few days. You could also leave too you know."

Matthew smiled, "I might, if I had not fallen for the lady who runs the dress shop. She's worried about Elizabeth too."

Artemus nodded, "All right. Please, Mr MacKenzie, sit down and I'll explain my plan."

Matthew sat and Artemus cleared his throat, "I have a few contacts within the medical fraternity and I've been making some inquiries regarding scholarships at Dr Blackwell's Medical College. If there are none available then I'm prepared to fund Elizabeth's training and accommodation."

Matthew shook his head, "That is too generous, Mr Gordon."

"That is refused." Elizabeth's voice spoke suddenly, "I saved Mr West on both occasions because it was the right thing to do not for either of you to shower me with gifts."

Artemus stood up and setting his empty glass on the table gently took her shoulders, "Come and sit down, Miss Mackenzie."

Matthew smiled and stood up, "Talk to them, Beth. We want to help you." She scowled when he called her by the diminutive but sat down in the seat Matthew had vacated,

"It is not necessary for you to do anything," Elizabeth insisted firmly.

Artemus looked across at his friend, and saw the small smile on his friend's face,

"Listen," Artemus said gently, "you have a rare skill. You waste your life if you stay out here."

"But even if I was to be given a scholarship," Elizabeth replied, "I couldn't afford to go and live in the city so this conversation is moot."

"We could help with that," James said softly. "Elizabeth, you saved my life, not once, but twice. You are bright, brave and beautiful and this country needs people like you."

She flushed when he called her beautiful and looked down at her folded hands, "I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this am I?"

Artemus smiled, "Beth," he said quietly, using the same diminutive that her brother had, "Look at me."

Surprised she looked up and saw Gordon smiling at her, "I know that you're nervous. But it will be all right – we promise."

She looked thoughtful for a moment, "All right. With lots and lots of reservations."

"That's my Beth," Artemus pulled her to him and hugged her.

"Would you like some more lemonade?" Matthew appeared in the doorway, "Supper's almost ready, Shepherd's Pie. I have made a cake for dessert."

"Was this part of your plan?" Beth half-turned in the chair to look at her brother.

"I saw you in the Hospital at Vicksburg," Matthew replied, "I've never seen someone so alive. Then after the Siege was lifted and after the rest of our neighbours blamed us for our affiliations I watched you wilt. You belonged in that hospital." He laid a gentle hand on Elizabeth's shoulder.

Shaking her head she turned back to the two Secret Service Agents, "Well, Gentlemen, it looks like I've been out-foxed, out- manoeuvred and out-classed. I'm in your hands."

Supper was a gentle affair, although she didn't say anything, Elizabeth could see how grateful Artemus was to see Jim back on his feet. She had no illusions about West, she'd known the minute she saw the ghost of West's former love that he wasn't the man for her, she was just glad he was all right.

Elizabeth was preparing her medical bag the following morning when Artemus came through to the medical room. She looked up and smiled, "I'm going into town to assist the doctor this morning. Do you want to come into town with me – check up on the telegrams you sent, Mr Gordon?"

Artemus smiled, "I'd like that. And please, it's Artemus."

"All right, Artemus." She grinned and then picking up her bag led the way out to the buckboard.

Dr Johnson was waiting for her when they pulled up in front of the surgery, "Well, my dear," he said, helping her down, "I heard the news today, may I offer my congratulations."

"News? Congratulations?" Elizabeth stared at him in consternation.

"I got one of my replies yesterday," Artemus cleared his throat behind her, "Dr Blackwell would be honoured to offer you a scholarship. It appears that President Grant's surgeon was searching high and low for the surgeon who saved Captain West's arm. I told you – you have too much talent to stay here."

"But that was years ago," Elizabeth stared at him, "he couldn't still be looking for me. You gave me the impression that you were waiting for replies."

"It's a very long story," Artemus admitted, "When President Grant's personal surgeon looked at Jim's arm he knew he was dealing with someone of rare talent. He reported this to Grant but when he returned to the hospital no-one came forward." Artemus admitted, "I'm guessing you weren't part of those discussions but even if you had been you wouldn't have admitted it, would you?"

Beth shook her head, "I'd have been dismissed and I needed the work. I wanted to feel useful. You said you were expecting replies."

"Some came yesterday," Artemus admitted, "and the others when I was speaking with Dr Johnson. I am sorry for the minor subterfuge, Beth. I have to check to see if I've had a reply from my superior and there were a couple of other telegrams I sent that I'm expecting replies to. Promise me you won't burst into hysterical tears."

Beth grinned wryly, "No, don't have time to become a hysterical female. Thanks all the same."

Artemus swung down from the buckboard and drew her into a massive bearhug, "That's my girl. Jim and I will leave tomorrow, I think he's fit enough now. If you could take the stage to Topeka it would be our pleasure to escort you to New York."

"All right, Artemus." Elizabeth smiled, she turned to Dr Johnson, "What do you need me to do?"

"Today?" Dr Johnson smiled, "Nothing. Go home and get packed. It's been a pleasure Miss MacKenzie."

Elizabeth flushed and then said thickly, "Actually I think the pleasure's been mine, Dr Johnson."

He hugged her again, "I look forward to hearing great things from you, Miss MacKenzie."

She waited in the buckboard while Artemus went into the telegraph office. When he came out she asked quietly, "Everything all right?"

He smiled and took the reins from her, "Yes. Come on, let's get home and you can pack."

WWWWW

She was sorting through her few clothes and chewing her lip as she did so. Matthew watched her quietly for a few moments and then quietly closed the door. "You look troubled, Mr MacKenzie," Artemus said softly.

"I am," Matthew managed a tense smile, "New York gets very cold in the winter and it embarrasses me to admit it but I have very little money to give Elizabeth so that she can purchase more appropriate clothes."

Artemus laid his hand on the man's shoulder, "Don't worry about that. A friend of mine will take her shopping when we get to New York. I've also taken the liberty of purchasing her coach ticket."

Matthew shook his head, "Your generosity overwhelms me, and her too I shouldn't wonder."

"I have my reasons," Artemus smiled, "some of which I have told you. Believe me, Mr MacKenzie, these are only minor things." He paused, "James West would have been a different man if he'd lost his arm – and I wouldn't have him as a partner."

Elizabeth looked at the clothes in her trunk, they seemed pitifully few. Two cotton dresses, half a dozen pantaloons. She'd packed an apron and her spare boots. Everything looked pitifully sparse in the bottom of the trunk. Sighing softly she closed the lid, despite her protests James had insisted on taking her into town and purchasing a coat for her, saying that she would need it when they reached New York. None of her protests had any effect and eventually she'd ungracefully given in.

The following morning West and Gordon saddled their horses and after bidding farewell to Matthew and Elizabeth mounted their horses, West leant down from his mount and said quietly, "We'll see you in Topeka this evening, all right?"

Beth nodded, managing to smile and then Matthew loaded her half-empty trunk onto the back of the buckboard and then helped his sister onto its seat, "Ready?" he asked as he took the reins.

"Not really," she managed a wan smile. He put an arm around her and hugged her, "It'll be all right, Beth," he said, "You'll do wonderfully – much better than here. Here you'd go mad."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak as a wave of homesickness threatened to overwhelm her. Then Matthew was clicking his tongue and the horse was heading for town. He waited while the stage was loaded and helped her into the carriage, she leant out of the window and smiled at his concerned face, "I'll send you a message from New York," she promised.

"I'll hold you to that," he said, "God speed, Beth."

"Thanks, Matt," she said, calling him by the pet name she'd used as a child, "Love you."

"Love you too, Beth." He responded.

She leant back in her seat and blinked furious tears away. She wouldn't cry here, not in front of strangers.

WWWW

Meanwhile, James stood on the running board at the back of the varnish car, his handsome face thoughtful and far away.

Artemus came to stand beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder, "You all right?" he asked.

Jim turned and smiled, "Yes, Artie. I just have a few errands to run when we get to New York City, I think I ought to go up to the cemetery. Pay my respects."

Artemus nodded, "Cecily?" he asked gently.

"Cecily," Jim agreed, "I had some strange dreams about her when I was ill, I dreamt that she came to say goodbye."

"Perhaps she did, pal," Artemus swallowed, "I know you'll never stop loving her – or she you wherever you are."

"No, Artie, I won't." Jim turned and for the first time Artemus saw that his face had lost the tense haunted look he always associated with Jim when he spoke of his lost love, "but whether it was dream or visitation it has taken a weight from my heart and I think I can go on."

"She would want that, Jim," Artie replied, his voice thick.

Jim nodded and then he was stepping back into the varnish car and leaving Artemus alone. For a long moment Artemus stood staring out at the golden landscape, then he closed his eyes and bowed his head, _Godspeed Cecily,_ he thought, _Godspeed and peace be with you_.


End file.
